Masks
by Drarry fanfic Reader
Summary: Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy grow closer when Draco breaks down from the stress of his mission and Harry pushes his friends away. An encounter in the corridor changes everything when Draco seeks Harry's help in saving himself and his mother. In progress Drarry fanfiction set in 6th year.
1. Chapter 1

Harry carefully swirled his potion counterclockwise, counting the stirs. _One...two...three...four...five...six! _He sighed in relief and set down the stirring rod. His cauldron bubbled, foamed, and finally turned a creamy golden hue. Hermione shot him a quick smile from across the room as she poured her cooling potion into tiny tapered vials. Harry started to transfer the potion to his own vials when his shoulder was abruptly bumped by someone behind him. Harry quickly stopped pouring, dancing out of the way of the scalding drops that threatened to burn his face and robes. More potion splashed across the floor, hissing and steaming, before Harry righted his cauldron and vial holder.

"Watch where you're going, _Potter!" _Someone spat. Harry rolled his eyes, turning to face the irritating, tall blond-haired Slytherin behind him.

"Malfoy," Harry returned sarcastically, "Charmed." Draco sneered, stepping closer to Harry and staring straight into his eyes. Harry blinked quickly in surprise before returning his own steely glare, looking back into the silver eyes of his rival.

"I'm always charming, Potter. Haven't you noticed?" Malfoy drawled, "Since you're always staring at me across the Great Hall?" Harry straightened in anger and opened his mouth to snap back as a rotund figure stepped behind Draco.

"Harry! Ten points from each of your houses. Return to your cauldrons immediately or it's another ten." Slughorn exclaimed, clearly disappointed in his star student. The boys exchanged a final look, Harry flushed and furious, Draco smirking triumphantly.

"And, Harry," Slughorn continued, "Please clean the floor too. Use cloths, not a cleaning spell. This potion is finicky." Harry glared at Draco and transfigured several cloths before bending over and scrubbing the warm potion from the ground.

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Later at dinner, Harry sat next to Ron and Hermione gloomily. While his friends chatted, he ate in silence, letting his gaze drift around the Great Hall. A shriek of laughter came from the Slytherin table and Harry shifted on his seat to look behind him. He saw Pansy gasping for air while Draco pointed straight at Harry and turned to whisper something in her ear. She doubled over in a fit of laughter and nearly fell off the bench while Harry seethed across the hall. Hermione looked at Harry and patted his shoulder, leaning in to be heard over the noise.

"Don't worry about Malfoy. He's an idiot and nothing he says about you is true." She said consolingly. Ron chimed in, with his customary mouthful of food.

"She's right, mate. He's a git. Don't listen to him." Hermione wrinkled her nose at his manners. Harry halfheartedly grinned at his friends before shifting his focus once more to his still full plate.

"Besides," Ron continued, "The Quidditch game is tomorrow! You can wipe the superiority off his sniveling face then. Maybe even knock 'im off his broom!" Harry couldn't hold back a quick smirk at the thought. He grinned at Ron before quickly finishing his food and standing up.

"You're both right. I have to go study and then I'm going up to the dorm to sleep."

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Harry waved to Hermione as he prepared to take off on his broom. He loved this moment; the electric thrill, the roar of the crowd, the anticipation of the coming flight, even the biting chill of the slight wind. He glared at Draco across the field, who was leading the Slytherins in a spirited chant of "Weasley is our King!" while Ron looked at once enraged and queasy. Harry mounted his broom and, at the signal, launched into the air searching for the golden Snitch. The Gryffindors and Slytherins fiercely battled on the Quidditch field, the score swaying one way and then the other. Ron blocked the Quaffle and the crowd roared, filled with both Gryffindor cheering and Slytherin hissing and booing. Harry dodged a Bludger and dove under an aggressive Slytherin player, desperately searching for a gleam on the field. He spotted Draco circling above him, scanning the field for the Snitch. He looked at Harry and suddenly dove for the opposite end of the field. Harry, thinking he had seen the Snitch, started to follow him before hearing a faint whirring behind him. The Snitch flew past his head and he whipped around after it, barely holding on to his broom. Draco looked back to see Harry bending low over his broom in the opposite direction and swore. The bloody Gryffindor had seen the Snitch! He sped after Harry as the golden orb whirred just out of Harry's reach.

A quick whistle caused him to glance up as a Bludger soared past him and toward Harry. Harry was oblivious, leaning nearly off his broom towards the Snitch and straightening out his whole body towards it.

"Harry, look out!" Hermione screamed, "Turn left!" Harry startled and swerved on his broom. The Snitch fluttered hesitantly, giving him enough time to lunge forward and wrap it in his fingers. As the announcer boomed that Gryffindor had won '150-120', the Bludger struck Harry in the head, knocking him unconscious and sending him plummeting to the ground two hundred feet below.

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The people in the crowd gasped and screamed as one, watching the unconscious boy as he fell, almost gracefully, towards the unforgiving, cold ground. Draco hesitated for a moment and then dove after him, fighting against the wind that blinded him, diving faster than he had ever dived until he was nearly falling with Harry. Fifty feet before the ground, Draco grabbed Harry under his arms and swung him over the broom, ignoring the pain in his chest and stomach as his body was forced into his broom, fighting against the weight that tore him towards the field. Draco swore loudly, trying to pull out of his nosedive and keep Harry from sliding off of the broom. The stands were silent and the Quidditch players were watching in horror as the Slytherin failed to climb, knowing that they couldn't reach him in time. Draco leapt off of his broom just before he slammed into the ground, dragging Harry with him. He landed on his back on the field and struggled to sit up and breathe before turning towards the unconscious boy beside him. Harry moaned in pain and tried to open his eyes and sit up, but Draco pushed him back down. Harry weakly grinned at him before closing his eyes again.

"Damn it, Potter, you had better not die now." Draco whispered fiercely, carefully holding his head still to prevent further injury. It was a pitiful Muggle method, but Draco couldn't remember a single spell, much less one for immobilization. Madam Pomfrey rushed onto the field, bending down to feel Harry's pulse and his head before turning to Draco.

"That was brave, young man. He would have died. You could have too." She said sternly as she handed Draco a small vial he recognized as a weak healing potion. Turning back to Harry, she levitated him carefully using her wand and moved him off of the field to the hospital wing.

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Harry woke up to Ron and Hermione sitting by his cot, wringing each other's hands. Hermione nearly shrieked when Harry's eyes opened, but she muffled it in her hand quickly.

"Harry! You're awake! How are you? How's your head? Do you remember what happened?" She stammered quickly. Ron chuckled and gently squeezed her shoulder.

"He seems fine, 'Mione. Maybe let him breathe a little?" Hermione flushed and awkwardly patted Harry's hand.

"Sorry Harry. I was scared for you. If Malfoy hadn't caught you when he did, you both would have died." Hermione stated softly. Harry sat straight up in surprise.

"What did you just say?! _Malfoy _caught me?" He nearly yelled in disbelief. "What _exactly _happened?! All I remember is the bloody Bludger and then I woke up on the field with someone holding me still. I tried to smile and thank him, but I passed out."

Hermione rapidly told Harry what had happened.

"...and then you tried to sit up, but Malfoy pushed you down and held you still. He was shaking, I think he was in shock, but he didn't let you move at all until Pomfrey came over. Then she took you here and Malfoy staggered off the field. Someone tried to help him, but he pushed them away. I think he's coming here now. It's been about an hour since you fell." Harry put his head in his hands, threading his fingers through his hair and making it stand on end.

"I can't believe that bloody Draco Ferret Malfoy, of all people, nearly died trying to catch me!" He mumbled through his hands. "I can't bloody believe it!" Hermione glanced over at Ron and raised her eyebrows. Ron raised his back, lifting his hands to say _What do you want me to do?_. Harry lifted his face from his palms as footsteps and irritated voices entered the hospital wing. He nearly grinned when he saw Draco futilely trying to pry Madam Pomfrey's strong hand from his upper arm, insisting that he was fine and didn't need help, that "Potter's the one who got bloody hit in the head!". He stopped when the witch leveled a glare at him.

"You hit the ground, Potter nearly landed on you, and you went into shock! SIT DOWN, Draco!" She ordered. Draco finally obeyed, sitting tensely on a cot and pulling his shirt over his head. Harry suppressed a gasp, ignoring his earlier embarrassment at nearly landing on Draco. Bruises spread down Draco's chest where he had slammed into his broom after grabbing Harry. His stomach was red and raw from landing and sliding on the field and he held his shoulder stiffly; he had nearly dislocated it catching Harry as he fell. Madam Pomfrey tutted disapprovingly before handing him another vial of potion which healed his skin. She muttered a quick spell to heal his shoulder and Draco winced as his bone moved back into place. Harry grimaced sympathetically and looked away. When he looked up, he yelped in surprise. Madam Pomfrey was looming over him while his friends tried to suppress their laughter.

"Good to see you awake, Harry. Sit up and take off your shirt." She commanded. Harry meekly obeyed, only to fall backwards from the throbbing pain in his head. The healer's lips flattened in concern.

"That's a concussion, Potter. Let me help you." She gently helped him out of his robes and shirt, exposing his injuries from the fall. His weren't nearly as bad as Draco's; only his shoulder and his chest where Draco had grabbed him hurt. Hermione sighed in relief.

"Draco got the worst of it. He cushioned your fall, catching you like that on the field." Madam Pomfrey stated as she handed him a bitter tasting potion and pushed him back against the bed.

"Rest, Potter. The potion will take effect quickly." She said. "And you, Mr. Malfoy, can stay right here," she yelled without looking around. Malfoy looked temporarily shocked before he regained his composure and sidled back to his cot. He settled himself gingerly on the bed, wincing as his still-stiff shoulder hit the mattress. Hermione and Ron were herded out the door by Madam Pomfrey, Hermione waving at Harry as she trotted along. Draco and Harry were left to sleep.

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As soon as Madam Pomfrey left the room, Draco jumped up and started pacing. Harry settled back against the pillows, trying to ignore the lessening pain in his head. He watched the boy walk back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth...dozing off until a thought awoke him.

"Thanks, Malfoy," he droned sleepily, "I would've died." The blond snapped from his thoughts and turned to face the nearly incoherent, messy haired boy lying across the room.

"You would have," he replied shortly, "Maybe the Bludger finally knocked some sense through your thick skull." Harry scowled at his response.

"I'm being grateful, you git." Harry mumbled.

"You should fall asleep. It's hard enough for you to think when you're fully awake, and I don't want you damaging the precious head I nearly died to save." Draco sneered cruelly. Harry glared at him.

"Last time I thank you." He spat before rolling over and falling asleep. Draco sighed in resignation before climbing into his own uncomfortable cot. Across the room, Harry started snoring quietly and Draco groaned.

"I'm not going to sleep at all," he muttered.

Hours later, Draco was still awake. He wanted to toss and turn, but his aching shoulder forced him to stay still. He needed to think, to move. He had a mission. _He _was the Chosen One, he was special, he had responsibilities like an adult. And yet, he still felt like he wanted to hide under his quilt, where he could take off his mask and be an adolescent. He sighed and sat up, putting his elbows on his thighs and his face in his hands. He shifted slightly, leaning forward, and winced when he heard the metal frame of his cot squeak accusingly. He heard an answering squeak across the room and groaned internally, sitting up straight. Harry looked blearily at him.

"Dija hear tha?" He mumbled, stretching. "The bedframe creaked," Draco replied, smirking. "I know it's scary, but go back to sleep." Harry was already slumping back towards his pillows and rolling over. Draco lay back too and stared up at the white ceiling before yawning widely and finally succumbing to sleep.

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Hermione and Ron's faces brightened as Harry strode into the Great Hall. Hermione smiled at him and shifted closer to Ron, allowing Harry to slide onto the bench. Harry chuckled at Ron's surprised, smug face and started piling his plate with pastries, eggs, and bacon. Hermione quirked an eyebrow.

"Are you _really _eating all that? You have almost the same amount as Ron!" Hermione laughed as Ron scowled at her, unable to talk through his bite of muffin. Harry replied, amused.

"I haven't eaten since breakfast yesterday, remember?"

"Yes, but quidditch is _after _lunch. Didn't you eat then?"

"Oh, er, right. I haven't eaten since _lunch _yesterday." Harry grinned sheepishly, swallowing the last of his eggs. Hermione sighed in exasperation. _Boys, _she thought. _They miss a meal and the world ends. _The door to the Great Hall swung open, and Draco Malfoy swaggered in with his classic sneer. He strode over to the Slytherin table, sliding onto the bench. Harry watched him suppress a wince as another Slytherin clapped him hard the on his sore shoulder. The Slytherin jeered at him. Harry could barely make out the words, but it sounded like;

"Oh, did that hurt, Draco? Poor wittle Dwaco, who's now a bloody hero after saving Potter. What will your...father think?" Harry's face reddened in anger and he lept up from the table, striding across the room. The entire school watched the Gryffindor walk over, place his hand on the table behind Draco and glare at the other Slytherin.

"Leave him alone," Harry commanded, his voice steely. The Slytherin smirked, uncowed.

"Or what, _Potter? _You'll attack me? Stun me? _Hex me?_"

"Don't tempt me," Harry said through gritted teeth. Draco tried unsuccessfully to tamp down his panic. Both boys were leaning in towards each other aggressively, stopping his escape, and Harry's arm was barring him in place. He replaced his sneer and viciously shoved Harry's arm away, ignoring the pain in his shoulder as he moved.

"Get away from me. I stopped you from being smashed to pieces, not offered to be your best _friend." _Draco spat in disgust. Harry stepped back, glaring at him and walking away. As the Slytherin boy next to him smirked and laughed with his friend about 'the bloody idiot', Draco turned and whispered to Pansy.

"What is wrong with him?" Pansy shrugged.

"He's confused. His savior complex is interfering with his head." Draco cracked a smile and Pansy turned internally gleeful at his expression.

"I'm glad you find me amusing..._Draco_." She purred, resting her hand on his shoulder and gently massaging it. Draco internally grimaced, but tried to maintain a pleasant face as he reached over and brushed her hair behind her ear. _I don't need more enemies, and she could be a valuable ally. _

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Harry bent over his parchment in the library, tapping the end of his quill on the table. His essay on Herbology lay unfinished beside him and he had moved on to his copying and translation of Ancient Runes. He was flanked by Ron and Hermione, Ron looking frustrated while Hermione was deeply absorbed in her Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook, her eyes wide.

"Harry! Did you know about this?" She exclaimed. Harry startled from his concentration and turned to find her textbook nearly shoved in his face.

"It says that Tom Riddle was one of the best Defense students ever at Hogwarts. At that time, their teacher taught them about dark magic, but not how to do it. According to this, the professor gave Tom private lessons to "quench his relentless thirst for knowledge about defensive magic". You-Know-Who killed his old professor to ensure that he couldn't teach magic to anyone else." Harry looked her.

"No, I didn't know that. Why is that important? Voldemort's an evil murderer, I know that, and I DON'T CARE HOW HE CAME BY HIS MAGIC!" He shouted. "I DON'T BLOODY CARE, AND I DON'T NEED TO KNOW ABOUT THE OTHER INNOCENT PEOPLE HE'S KILLED!" Hermione recoiled, startled, and then glared at Harry.

"I was _trying _to help! Maybe if we learned more about this professor," she stopped Harry's next words with a fierce look, "we could find out more about how to defeat You-Know-Who." Harry looked at her, his eyes wild.

"I...I...I'm going to the dorm." He stood brusquely, shoving his chair under the table and storming out, leaving his quills and parchment scattered across the table. Hermione turned back, upset and frustrated, but not before she saw Harry raise his left hand to his face and rub viciously under his eyes. Ron was still sitting in his chair, staring at Hermione open-mouthed.  
"What the bloody hell is wrong with him lately?" He asked indignantly. "He had no _right_ to treat you that way!" Hermione smiled at him quickly, trying to banish the prickling in her eyes. Ron's face softened and he stood up and moved towards her. He placed his hand on her shoulder, rubbing her back softly.

"Please don't cry," he said gently, "I'll go talk to him." Hermione stood slowly and hugged Ron, looking out over his shoulder as he held her and murmured soothingly, running his fingers through her soft hair.

"I'll go with you," she said, stepping back and wiping her eyes. "I need to talk to him too."

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Hermione and Ron walked into the Gryffindor common room, heading straight for Harry's dorm. Opening the door, Ron led Hermione to Harry's bed and threw open the curtains. The bed was empty. Hermione furrowed her brow and turned to the other occupants of the dorm.

"Where's Harry?" She inquired. The other boys turned to look at each other.

"Er...well, he didn't say. He came in here, grabbed his cloak, and left." Neville muttered. Hermione looked shocked before viciously running her hands through her long hair in frustration. Ron looked pleadingly over her head at the boys.

"Oh, bloody fine. He's probably in the Astronomy Tower, but he'll hex me if he thinks I told you." Seamus Finnigan huffed. Hermione grabbed Ron's hand, fleeing from the dorm and dragging him with her. They ran towards the Astronomy Tower, Hermione nearly flying up the spiraling staircase. They skidded to a stop in the top of the tower, looking around for Harry. The space was bare, without good places to hide, but Harry was nowhere in sight. The window was open, letting in freezing wind and turning the stone floor icy. Hermione began to panic.

"Harry? Are you up here?" She yelled, feeling her voice catch and tremble slightly. Ron muffled a surprised yelp behind her, and she turned around to see Harry's invisibility cloak tumble to the floor, revealing him next to the window. His body was tense and he was gripping the edge of the window, shivering as the cold air blew his hair back from his face. Hermione rushed towards him, pulling the window closed and nearly hitting Harry in the face. He flinched and turned away, bending down to pick up his cloak before balling it in his hands. Hermione tried to look at his face, but he turned away from her, shaking out his cloak and wrapping it around his shoulders. He disappeared except for his head and started to walk out of the tower. Ron blocked the door and grabbed Harry by his shoulders, shaking him.

"What is wrong with you?" Ron fiercely whispered, "Wake up, mate." Harry flipped his cloak over his face and shook off Ron's grip, disappearing into the night. Hermione moved closer to Ron, ensuring that Harry couldn't leave. They desperately searched the room for signs of him, but Harry was gone. Suddenly, the window swung open, and the wind blew off Harry's cloak, revealing his head as he jumped. Hermione screamed and ran to the window in time to see Harry mount his broom and fly off just before he hit the ground. Hermione slumped against the wall, pressing her face into the stone, her head swirling with relief, anger, and fear. Ron hung back awkwardly before folding her in his arms. Now, Hermione did cry. She held Ron as they both sobbed, confused and terrified for their best friend.

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Ron startled awake later, pulling back the curtains with his wand and peering out into the dorm. A dark figure stumbled towards the bed next to him, breathing quickly.

"_Lumos," _Ron whispered, illuminating the figure. He saw Harry's face, red and scratched, his eyes squinting into the bright light from his wand.

"_What are you doing?" _Ron hissed angrily, but stopped when he took a closer look at Harry. He looked miserable; his eyes were red and his face was streaked to his chin with tears.

"I'm going to see Hermione. I ha..ha...have to apologize." He hiccuped. Ron glared at him.

"You think she wants to see you right now? After what you did to us?" Harry didn't respond, instead turning and climbing awkwardly into his bed.

"You're right. I'll see her tomorrow," he said, his voice thick. And then,

"I'm so sorry, Ron." Ron exhaled heavily before turning over, putting his back to Harry.

"Go to sleep." Harry shifted in his covers, closing his eyes and trying to sleep. Images of Hermione frowning, flinching, screaming, crying, all because of him, flashed across his eyelids like films from a projector. He let out a quiet wail of shame and anguish, burying his face in his pillow and pressing the images from his eyes until he saw only flashes of light. Exhaustion overcame him, and he melted into his comforting blankets. _I'm sorry, Hermione. _He thought to the bright eyed, witty girl in his mind. _I'll make this better, I promise._

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Harry stumbled into the Gryffindor common room the next morning, trying to straighten his tie and wake up simultaneously. When he walked into the room, many of the Gryffindor boys in Harry's year stared at him. He shifted uncomfortably in the door, scanning the room for his friends. He saw them sitting at the other end of the room, studying together, but Ron's arm was around Hermione's shoulders and she was leaning her head on him tiredly. Under normal circumstances, Harry would have smiled at their affection, but he was too tired and miserable to. Seamus cleared his throat and pointed at Harry. Harry nearly left when all the eyes in the room turned towards him, but resisted the urge.

"Hermione, Ron, can I please talk to you?" They exchanged a look before standing up and walking towards Harry cautiously. He led them back to the boys' dorm, gesturing for them to sit on his bed before he sealed the curtains and cast a silencing charm.

"Hermione and Ron, I'm so sorry. I was stressed and upset and I just snapped. I just...I can't think about Volde-sorry, You-Know-Who, all the time." They watched him in silence as he spoke.

"And I don't expect you to forgive me quickly, and I know I hurt you, and scared you. I'm so sorry. You're both people that I care about and I never meant to hurt you, and I was out of control and scared." Hermione shifted slightly closer to him, observing the tears that he was trying to ignore as they welled up in his eyes.

"Where did you go?" She asked. "After you leapt out the window?" Harry looked back at her.

"I went to the Forbidden Forest. There are so many obstacles that I can't think about anything else when I fly." Hermione nodded. Silent until now, Ron spoke up.

"You hurt us, Harry," he said coldly. "Hermione was miserable and scared, I was terrified for you. _How could you do that to us_?" He glared as he hissed his last sentence, the only sign that his composure was unstable was his voice cracking. Hermione looked up at him, ready to bite back, before realizing that he was right and turning back to Harry. He absently stroked her back, feeling her relax slightly as she leaned into his comforting touch.

"Yes, Harry, why?" She asked cooly. "We're your best friends, yet you've told us nothing about how you're doing lately and then you scream at me in the library." Harry tried to calm himself, fighting the sudden rush of misery that engulfed him. Two tears slipped from behind his glasses and he angrily scrubbed them away.

"I don't know. I've just been miserable lately, thinking about You-Know-Who, and Malfoy is being a git, and then you started talking in the library and I just lost control. I couldn't think about other innocent man that was killed for being kind." He was crying in earnest now, utterly failing to stay calm, and turning his face away from his friends. He released the spell on the curtain, allowing it to spring open cheerfully, oblivious to the mood it concealed.

"You can go now. I'm sorry for interrupting your morning. I'll be a better friend, I promise." Hermione and Ron shared a glance before climbing off the bed together. They barely heard Harry whisper.

"Do you hate me?" Hermione glanced back before walking away. Just as she and Ron reached the door, she briefly turned around.

"Harry, I could never hate you. But right now, I'm hurt and angry, and you need to prove to me that you're better than this." She saw his face crumple slightly, but he managed to nod as she walked out. Though Hermione's anger was avenged, she couldn't help but feel a painful twinge of empathy, as though someone had poked their wand against her heart.

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Harry wasn't at breakfast the next morning. Hermione and Ron ignored it, enjoying their food and conversation. Hermione found that she truly enjoyed making Ron laugh; his eyes shone and he always swept his hand through his coppery hair as he chuckled. Ron noticed her happiness and felt his chest tighten slightly when he looked at her flushed, joyous face surrounded by tendrils of bouncy hair escaping from her messy bun. She began talking animatedly about the complexity of the potion they were making today, but he couldn't listen fully. Her eyes shone brightly and her hair danced about as she talked and gestured excitedly. He subconsciously brushed her hair out of her face, tucking the loose strand behind her ear as he smiled at her. She trailed off, blushing.

"My hair is just a mess. I don't understand why it won't stay put. I practically need to charm it!" She laughed, gathering her hair back into its simple tie. Their breakfast started to disappear and Hermione stood up from the table, grabbing a red and gold napkin and two pastries. Ron quirked an eyebrow at her questioningly.

"What's that for?" Hermione looked up from wrapping the food in the napkin.

"It's for Harry. I'm sure he'll be miserably hungry." Ron sighed, a grin touching the corners of his lips.

"What?" She flushed slightly. "I might be angry with him, but he's still my best friend." Ron took her hand and pulled her out of the Great Hall, walking with her to their first class. In the corridor, he stopped and Hermione turned to look at him. Setting both hands on her shoulders, he leaned down and kissed her softly, brushing his lips against hers briefly. Hermione blushed, but returned the kiss, smiling as she closed her eyes. They heard a suppressed yelp of surprise as footsteps rounded the corner. Ron stepped back and turned around to see Harry, looking embarrassed.

"Sorry, I didn't know you were here. I assumed you were in class already." To his surprise, Hermione laughed.

"Normally, we would be. However, Ron decided to make us late." She said, ruffling Ron's hair affectionately. Harry quirked a quickly-melting smile and sidled past them in the hall. He pushed open the door and disappeared inside. His friends moved to follow him, but they were stopped by a crash and a groan.

"Really, Potter? Now you're tripping over your robes?" Hermione could hear the sniveling smirk on Draco's face as he mocked Harry.

"I didn't bloody trip on my robes! You tripped me, Malfoy!" Harry growled in frustration before Professor McGonagall silenced them. Ron and Hermione looked at each other, raising their eyebrows in exasperation before pushing open the door to the Transfiguration classroom.

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Professor McGonagall looked sternly at her students.

"Granger, Weasely, Potter, Malfoy. You were all late. 15 points from Gryffindor and 5 points from Slytherin." Draco and Harry glared at each other, Harry clenching his hands into fists as the Slytherin stepped closer. The professor cleared her throat pointedly, her wand in her hand. The two boys separated before finding that all the seats in the room had been taken by people and their class partners. The only bench left wobbled and had suspicious lumps under the surface of the golden wood.

"Potter, Malfoy, you are now partners. Everyone else is taken." Ron smirked at Hermione and mouthed _taken?. _She tried to suppress a giggle as Ron whistled suggestively at Harry, causing him to flush in anger and glare. Ron sheepishly stopped, realizing that his joke had gone awry as Draco smirked in Ron's direction. He looked away quickly, picking up his wand as Professor McGonagall started talking. Draco slid onto the bench, followed by Harry, both boys' shoulders tense and their posture angry. Hermione kept a subtle eye on them as she took notes and practiced the spell. Turning iron into wood was challenging, but Hermione managed perfectly and Ron, following her lead, adopted a childish look of triumph as he too performed the spell. Harry and Draco were both struggling, clearly distracted by leaning as far away as possible from each other. The professor noticed and declared,

"You two, if you cannot perform the charm this instant, you will stay after class for remedial lessons." The boys slouched forward, resigned, both attempting to cast the spell at the same time, getting distracted, and causing the iron to melt and warp into a rough wood grain. Harry glared at Draco, silencing him as he attempted to cast the spell again.

"_Ferroligno," _he spoke clearly, flicking his wand up and down quickly. This time, the transformation was complete and iron turned into a smooth, wand-shaped twig. Hermione clapped quickly and Harry smirked infuriatingly at Draco. Draco, Hermione noticed with surprise, looked away instead of smirking back. He cast the spell flawlessly and then leaned back on the bench, looking away from Harry silently. Harry looked at Ron. _What's with him? _Harry mouthed. Ron shrugged, quizzically observing Malfoy's pale face and his twisted expression.

"And who can tell me the use of this charm?" McGonagall looked at her distracted students with stern irritation. Hermione raised her hand.

"Anyone besides Ms. Granger?" The professor implored. "Surely one of you must know." Harry shifted uncomfortably as she looked at him before turning her gaze to Draco.

"Mr. Malfoy, what is the use of the _Ligno Ferrum _charm?" Draco looked up, startled.

"It can be used to fool an enemy into picking up a false wand or to disguise an iron weapon." He answered cooly.

"That is correct, Mr. Malfoy. Five points to Slytherin." Draco slumped back against the bench, lapsing into perfect silence. Harry glanced at him through his eyelashes. The Slytherin's eyes were nearly closed in exhaustion, his face was tight and even paler than usual, and he sat hunched with his arms crossed on his stomach. Harry nudged him gently.

"Are you okay?" He whispered. Draco shut his eyes and shook his head. Harry stood up, startling the boy next to him.

"Professor, Malfoy is ill. He needs to get to the hospital wing." The woman looked at Draco, noting what Harry had observed.

"Of course. Please assist him, Mr. Potter." Draco sat up to protest, but immediately folded over in pain. He just nodded and slid across the bench, letting Harry help him up. He started to walk across the classroom by himself, taking short steps before Harry tried to stop him. Draco shook off his arm and slid his eyes subtly to the other Slytherins, who were watching him. Harry stepped back, choosing to follow Draco as he stumbled out of the classroom, standing straight despite the obvious pain it caused him. Once he and Harry were alone in the hallway, Draco slumped against the wall, his breath fast and shallow. Harry stepped closer to him and pulled Draco's arm over his shoulder, helping the tall blonde stand and walk. Draco didn't protest, gritting his teeth as they went down the spiraling stairs. Halfway down, Draco slumped completely on Harry, forcing both of them onto the stairs.

"I just need to rest," Draco panted. Harry looked at him in concern. He was weak and tired, his eyes closing and his back hunched.

"Draco, it's impossible for you to do this. Let me get my wand. I can levitate you to the hospital wing." Draco just nodded against Harry's shoulder, half-asleep.

"_Wingardium Leviosa," _he whispered, levitating Draco and walking to the hospital wing with him floating in the air.

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Madam Pomfrey hummed contentedly in the hospital wing as she helped a first year place a small bandage on her elbow. She had tripped on an uneven stone in the hallway, which Madam Pomfrey had already leveled. The first year beamed at her when she stood up and then skipped out of the hospital wing.

"Be careful, dear. The hallways have a mind of their own!" She yelled after the girl, turning back to the task of organizing the cupboard of potions. Footsteps entered the room.

"Madam Pomfrey! He needs help! I don't know what's wrong with him." She turned around, startled at Harry's panicked voice. The unconscious form of Draco Malfoy floated in the air behind him, slowly lowering down as Harry tired and started to lose his concentration.

"Set him on the bed, now, Harry." He flicked his wand, laying Draco down gently on the the nearest cot as he slumped in exhaustion. The woman walked briskly over, waving her wand over Draco. The stream of magic that flowed from her wand turned a deep green, shot through with streaks of bruised purple. She turned to Harry.

"He's ill, but it's curable. He seems to have taken a poorly made potion and it's poisoning him." Harry sat down on the cot next to Draco's, trying to regain some of his energy after using so much magic. Madam Pomfrey strode across the room, returning rapidly with what Harry recognized as a bezoar. He shuddered, recalling the night when his best friend almost died, but he banished the thought as the woman gestured to him.

"Sit him upright. It will make it easier for him to swallow." She opened Draco's mouth, placing the bezoar inside and casting a quick incantation that made him close his mouth and swallow. Draco coughed and opened his eyes, the pain in his body decreasing slightly. Harry started to lower him down, but stopped when Draco grabbed his wrist.

"Don't. I need to sit up." He muttered through the pain that any movement seemed to bring. Harry nodded understandingly and again pushed Draco up into a seated position. He groaned slightly as he moved, clutching his stomach and bending forward as the pain passed. Madam Pomfrey looked on with concern and approval.

"Yes, Draco, stay seated. Harry, please help him. He'll be too weak until the bezoar takes complete effect." Harry nodded, turning his eyes to Draco as he scowled at the medic. He _hated _feeling weak and Potter was here to witness every second of it. His fellow Slytherins would mock him, or worse. As Madam Pomfrey walked away, Harry leaned in and whispered.

"This never happened. You fought off the effects of the potion on your own, but Pomfrey made you stay." Draco nodded and relaxed slightly, relieved that Harry understood.

"Thank you." He whispered back. Harry smiled slightly, readjusting his arm to relieve the cramp in his shoulder. Draco looked at him questioningly, noting the strange motion. Harry flushed slightly.

"Oh, it's nothing." Draco shifted over slightly, nodding at the empty half of the bed. Harry sat down awkwardly, shaking his arm slightly to loosen the muscles. He started to raise his arm to support Draco again, but Draco waved him away.

"Give me the pillow. I can use it as a brace." A look of comprehension dawned in Harry's eyes and he carefully stood up, keeping his hand on Draco's back until he had the pillow against him. Then, he sat down behind Draco, propping the pillow against his side and letting Draco lean on him. Draco lay back as his breathing slowed, his head drooping into the pillow as he slumped against Harry, deeply asleep. Madam Pomfrey passed them several times as she bustled around the room, smiling at Harry faintly as she saw him, attentively watching the sleeping boy.

"Harry?" She called to him, making him jump in surprise. "You are excused from the rest of your classes. Thank you for your assistance." Harry nodded at her.

"Thank you, Madam. I'm glad to help." He said cheerfully, before turning his attention to Draco again.

"And Harry?"

"Yes, Madam Pomfrey?" She strode across the room.

"He can lay down now. You don't have to hold him." Harry sighed, relieved, standing up and stretching slowly as the woman gently lowered Draco onto the bed. She started to cover him with the blanket, but Harry stopped her.

"I can take care of him." He said earnestly, pulling the blanket over Draco and carefully lifting his head on top of the pillow. Madam Pomfrey smiled internally. _I hope this lull in rivalry lasts, _she thought. _It would be wonderful for house unity. _Harry's face softened as he looked at the vulnerable Slytherin. _I hope this will last. Maybe we won't fight all the time anymore._

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Nearly three hours later, Draco woke up, squinting into the bright hospital wing. He propped himself on his elbows, yawning and stretching his back, cat-like. Forcing his eyes open and turning his head, he found himself staring directly at Harry. Or at least, his back as he kneeled down, comforting a sniffling third-year as Madam Pomfrey healed his bruised ankle.

"It's all right. It's not a bad injury. It could have been worse, but you landed very well." Harry crooned soothingly, rubbing the boy's back. The boy offered him a watery smile which Harry returned brightly.

"See? It's all healed. Stand up...careful now." He cautioned, nearly picking the boy up as he stumbled. The boy regained his footing and trotted out of the hospital wing.

"Thank you Harry!" He shouted happily from the door. "...And Madam Pomfrey." He added sheepishly, slipping away. Harry smiled, spinning around to straighten the bedsheet and nearly falling over.

"Draco! You scared me! How long have you been awake?" Draco froze in the middle of his stretch, his arms reaching above his head, his back arched. Harry arched an eyebrow at his strange position and Draco relaxed.

"Not long. I didn't wish to interrupt." He replied, his voice strained as he again stretched his stiff muscles. Harry's eyes flicked over Draco, but he blushed and turned around as Draco's back curved lithely.

"I'm glad that you're feeling better. Madam Pomfrey said that the bezoar would work quickly." He stated, briskly straightening the blanket. Draco rolled to a sitting position on the bed and quickly stood up, straightening his shirt.

"Oof," he exhaled, dropping back onto the bed, pressing his palms to his temples as the headache vanished. Harry spun around.

"You alright?" He inquired.

"Yes, I'm fine. I just stood up too quickly." Harry nodded, turning back to fluffing the pillows.

"Never thought _you_ worked with the children in here." Draco said, quickly realizing the snotty tone he had used when Harry shot a glare at him.

"What is that supposed to mean?" He seethed. "I help in the hospital wing occasionally." Draco winced.

"I didn't mean it like that, Potter. No need to be hasty." He shot back, forgetting to keep his voice calm. "I was merely expressing a thought." Harry snorted.

"You're rubbish at apologies. Oh wait! Malfoys don't apologize, right?" Harry asked innocently, his face contrasting with the venom in his tone. Draco stood up again, stepping closer to Harry as he glared back.

"No, they _don't _apologize, _especially _not to gits like you!" He spat, looking down at Harry, staring straight into his eyes, which had widened slightly with surprise. Harry eyes flickered away and he bit down on his lip.

"Sorry." He mumbled. "I overreacted." Draco stepped back slightly, surprised by the quickly changing moods of his rival.

"You're sorry?" He echoed in disbelief. "Why are you being nice to me?" He internally groaned at the incredulity in his voice; it made him sound like a child. Harry ignored his tone.

"Why not? I'm sick of our bloody rivalry, Malfoy. You saved my bloody life and now you want to go back to hating each other?" His voice rose as he again met Draco's gaze, nearly yelling at him. Now, Draco looked away from the flashing eyes that glared at him.

"No," he replied evenly. "I don't. But it can't change overnight." Harry nodded.

"It can't. But it could with more time." He spoke softly, turning back to straighten the already impeccable bed before striding strongly out of the room. Draco watched him go, observing the strong line of his shoulders, the way he put his own mask up, prepared himself for the world outside the wing with unshakable confidence, giving nothing away... _like a Malfoy, _Draco thought, turning to smooth his own bed.

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Later in the Common Room, Harry again wrenched his attention towards his unfinished schoolwork. The noise in the room was unbearable; as if to prove Harry right, the Gryffindors let out a collective roar of laughter at the antics of two first-years. Harry sighed in exasperation, staring at his nearly-blank parchment. Fully blank, actually, if he didn't count the various drawings scattered around the edges. Giving up on his schoolwork, he let his eyes drift around the busy Common Room, lit with a soft glow from the flickering fireplace. In the shadowy corner, he could just make out two figures talking. As he watched curiously, the taller of the two bent down and, taking the other's face in their hands, kissed them rather passionately. Harry blushed, embarrassed to be watching such a private moment. Yet, he didn't look away, starting to grin as his eyes adjusted to the light and he recognized the fluffy, caramel hair that obscured the figures' faces. His best friends broke apart, turning to walk out of the corner, and Harry quickly looked away. His gaze snagged on a particularly good doodle on the parchment. A simple, slender face looked out from the page, pale hair falling into its eyes. It looked, Harry realized with a start, like Malfoy. It was a simple sketch, but the perfectly smooth hair and nearly feminine face were undeniably familiar. He groaned and buried his head in his hands. _Why am I drawing Malfoy? Have I forgotten that he said he wanted to hate me? _He glanced at the drawing again. _His eyes are wrong, _he thought, bending forward with his quill in hand. _They're darker and wider...like a storm cloud grey, with streaks of silver. _He shook his head. _Bloody hell?! Why did I think that? _

"You alright mate?" Harry yelped, instinctively covering the drawing with his hand and spinning around at the same time. Ron and Hermione looked startled and Harry grinned at them weakly.

"Sorry, you just startled me. I didn't hear you walk behind me." Ron laughed.

"Where's your head lately?" He said good-naturedly, peering behind Harry at the parchment. "Oi, who's that?" Harry quickly shifted his hand to cover the sketch.

"No one. Just a drawing." Ron eyed him suspiciously.

"Yes, Harry, who is it? It's quite good for a sketch." Hermione said kindly. Harry grew flustered, shifting nervously.

"Er...really. It's nothing." Hermione and Ron looked at him with clear disbelief, but turned and walked away, hand in hand. Harry exhaled in relief, turning to the parchment and carefully scratching Draco's face with his quill, the ink rendering it unrecognizable.

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The next morning, Harry stumbled blearily out of his dorm to find an irritated Ginny fidgeting with her robes impatiently. He winced internally, instantly becoming wary. When she saw him, she straightened up and strode closer to him purposefully, her shoes clicking on the floor aggressively.

"_Where _have you been?" She demanded, poking her pointer finger in his face. "Why have you been avoiding me?" Harry frantically scrambled to come up with an excuse while she stared him down. He gave up and decided on honesty.

"Because I've been a bloody mess lately and I couldn't...I don't know. I'm sorry, Ginevra." Ginny narrowed her eyes at him.

"Really? That is the worst excuse I've heard. '_I've been a bloody mess lately?'" _She mocked, continuing to glare.

"So I suppose avoiding my eyes, pretending not to see me in the corridors, hiding in the Room of Requirement-don't lie to me, Harry. I know you did." She silenced him, watching him as he crumbled under the force of her words.

"I really am sorry, Ginevra, but..." Ginny again silenced him.

"So it's _Ginevra, _now? My name is_ Ginny_." She hissed, hiding her flash of hurt under another glare.

"I suppose you're calling Hermione by a nickname now? You certainly seem quite close." Harry gaped at her before he realized her implication and snickered. Ginny leaned closer to him.

"What?!" She yelled suddenly. "What is so _funny?" _Harry quickly sobered.

"Ginny, Hermione and I are just friends. She's dating Ron, didn't you know?" _Besides, _he thought, _I'm not sure I even... _Ginny looked shocked.

"My brother is dating Hermione? Why did I not know? No offense to him, but what does an amazing girl like 'Mione see in my animal brother?" Harry chuckled at her words.

"Truly, I've wondered the same thing." Ginny seemed relieved, her jealous face relaxing. A silence stretched out between them.

"Would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me?" Harry blurted. "Maybe we could spend the day together and I could make up for ignoring you." Ginny startled at his outburst.

"Yes, I'd like that." She smiled at him, as he internally panicked. Ginny turned to walk away, her anger fully melted.

"Wait! Ginny…" Harry grabbed her sleeve gently. She turned back questioningly.

"Yes?" Harry flushed, but locked his eyes on hers.

"Ginny, I...I'd love to go with you as friends. I didn't mean, well, as a date, I suppose." Ginny tore her sleeve away, her anger surging as she crossed her arms.

"Would you _please _decide how you feel about me? I know you used to like me, but now what?!" She yelled at him, her frustration cracking her voice.

"Oh, Ginny, I'm so sorry. I do like you...I _love _you, but you're like Hermione or a sister. I couldn't ever like you that way." He spoke softly, hating himself as he watched her emotions shift and whirl on her face.

"Fine." Ginny said finally. "At least that's the truth." She seemed relieved as she stepped closer to Harry.

"Then, I'd like to do this once." She mumbled, leaning in and kissing him softly. He almost stepped back in shock, but surrendered to her lips. He owed her, he supposed, for hurting her, so he stepped closer and wrapped his arms around her, breaking the kiss. She hugged him back before stepping away.

"I'm sorry." Harry whispered. "I didn't want to hurt you." Ginny just looked at him.

"It's fine. I'll see you sometime. 'Bye Harry." She said blankly, turning slowly and walking down the corridor. Harry watched her go, unsure if her posture was defeated or slumped with relief.

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"How lovely." A silver voice drawled behind Harry. He spun around, finding himself looking at none other than Malfoy. The Slytherin detached himself from the stone he was leaning on and strode over to Harry. _Even the way he walks speaks of wealth, _Harry thought with irritation. _It's seeped into his blood. _Draco stopped a few steps away and raised a perfect blond eyebrow.

"What was that with the little Weasel?" Harry glared at him.

"Don't call her that, you rich brat, and it's none of your business!" Draco stepped closer.

"Really, Potter? Giving me orders? I'll call the Weasel whatever I want." Harry held his gaze.

"Fine, _Ferret._" Draco merely smirked.

"As if that would actually insult me. I like to think of that as a reminder of the time I was unsuccessfully attacked by a Death Eater." Harry smirked back.  
"I'd say successfully. You turned and ran like a child. And you should have seen your face." Draco glared warningly, sending a thrill of adrenaline through Harry. Fighting with Malfoy was normal and his life was completely off the rails. He could use a few minutes of normalcy, no matter what it was. He kept talking.

"You looked terrified. Couldn't tell your father about _that, _could you?" Draco stepped even closer, his mouth curling into a sneer. So close, his height cast a shadow on Harry in the otherwise light-filled corridor.

"I would suggest you stop, Potter." Draco stated in a soft voice, its velvet tone concealing the threat like fine cloth hiding a deadly blade. Harry just looked back, his eyes slightly wild, desperate.

"No, Malfoy." Draco's mercury eyes glinted with the challenge and he leaned his face closer. His hair fell into his face and his pointed nose nearly touched Harry's as they both tensed, ready to pounce.

"Is that so?" Draco whispered, their faces so close that he could feel Harry's hair brushing his own. Harry glared, refusing to back down from Draco's oppressive closeness. His confidence was shaken though, and he licked his lips nervously.

"Get away from me, Malfoy." He whispered back, compelled to match Draco's tone. Draco didn't move.

"No, Potter." He said in a soft voice, a parody of Harry's own words. Suddenly, Harry grabbed Draco's shoulders, forcing him against the wall. Draco jumped, turning to try and escape Harry's grasp, but he didn't manage to free himself before the stone touched his back. He met his opponent's eyes again, finding them as close as they were seconds ago. Inexplicably, they rushed closer as Harry brought their faces together harshly. Draco barely had time to gasp indignantly before Harry's lips were on his, his eyes still open, his hands gripping Draco's shoulders. The moment stretched and then broke sharply as Harry pushed himself off of the other boy's shoulders and ran down the corridor as fast as he could possibly go.

"Stop!" Draco yelled. Harry slowed down to a walk as he turned around the corner, but didn't stop or look back. Draco growled in frustration, running his hand through his immaculate hair and ruining it. _Why did he do that?! _He wanted to scream. _How _dare _he touch me?! _Draco clenched his hands around his hair and pulled it, the stabbing pain focusing him. He breathed once deeply before straightening his disheveled robes and hair and swaggering out of the corridor.

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Harry sulked later in his bed. The curtains were drawn and magically sealed closed and he was staring upwards without seeing anything. _Why did I do that? That was bloody stupid! He'll kill me! _He brooded miserably and then groaned in resignation and turned over, absentmindedly playing with his hair. He saw the curtain twitch and then spring open, revealing an infuriated Hermione and a sheepish Ron.

"Harry!" Hermione nearly shouted, "I've been talking to you for _ages! _Care to explain _why _you missed dinner and are now sulking in your bed with a _Muffliato charm on the curtains_?!" Harry glared at her.

"No, not really." He said moodily. Hermione scowled at him, crossing her arms and tapping her foot. Harry used his wand to try and pull the curtains shut. Both Ron and Hermione grabbed them, overlapping their hands. Harry sighed dramatically and rolled over, facing the other still-closed curtain. Hermione stamped her foot in frustration and Harry briefly grinned at her childish antics. Ron awkwardly patted her shoulder.

"Maybe we should go, Hermione. He's…" he trailed off as Hermione leveled at fierce glare his direction.

"Why are boys so dense?! He's clearly upset and, as his _best friend, _I have a right to know why he's avoiding everyone and sulking like a child!" She shrieked. Harry groaned resignedly and turned back over to face her. Hermione shot a triumphant look at Ron before turning to Harry.

"What's wrong?" She asked, with more than a trace of her previous annoyance. Harry rubbed his hands over his face and mumbled.

"I...er...well I...IkissedsomeoneandIdon'tthinktheywantedmeto." Hermione looked at him startled.

"You _kissed _someone?!" Harry blushed and looked intensely uncomfortable. Ron pretended not to hear and started inching away. Hermione glanced over at him and waved her hand. Ron sighed in relief and then shot an encouraging smile at Harry before quickly walking out of the dorm. Hermione pounced the second he left.

"Who did you kiss? Why do you think they were upset?" She asked quickly. Harry grimaced.

"Well, I can't say. Er, I mean...uggh. I can't tell you." Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose, breathing deeply.

"Why can't you tell me? Do you think I'll be upset?" Harry nodded awkwardly, his face coloring again.

"I won't be upset. I don't care who you like." She reassured him. Harry laughed humorlessly.

"Then why are you asking me?" Hermione looked at him like he was some especially disgusting potions ingredient.

"You are an absolute oaf, Harry Potter. Are you so blind that you can't see that I care about you?" Despite her words, her tone was one of deep hurt. Harry instantly reached out to her, grabbing her hand.

"Oh, Hermione, I know you care. I care about you too. This is just, well, hard to talk about I suppose." Hermione looked up at him.

"Harry, you can talk to me about anything." Harry smiled at her briefly, moving over and gesturing for her to sit down.

"'Mione, I need you to be honest," he said nervously. She sat gently on the edge of his bed and looked at him with her warm brown eyes.

"Of course I'll be honest. You're my best friend." Harry genuinely smiled at her, sitting up and leaning his head on her shoulder.

"Thanks, 'Mione." Hermione absently stroked his hair, waiting for him to continue. He took a deep breath and blurted,

"It wasn't a girl." He leaned away, looking at her face. He was surprised at how calm she looked. She blinked once, possibly in surprise before saying quietly and tenderly,

"Harry, I don't care. I love you like a brother and I really don't care if you like men or women or both or neither." He looked at her, relief evident in his bright eyes. He settled back onto her shoulder, hiding the few tears in his eyes from her vision. He was so relieved. He couldn't lose his best friend because of who he had realized he was.

"I love you too, Hermione."


	2. Chapter 2

Hello! Just to let you guys know, I'm struggling with writer's block right now and updates might be shorter than I'd like. Here is what I have written lately. Thanks for your patience and I hope you enjoy!

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Draco couldn't sleep again. His head was swirling with confusion and frustration. The day had baffled him; what started as a perfectly normal fight with Potter had morphed into something far stranger. He squirmed with discomfort as he remembered how close their faces had been. He remembered being able to see nothing but Potter's eyes, they were so close. And then the bloody git had grabbed him and pressed him into the wall! His arms ached where they had been encircled by hands and Potter clearly didn't know his own strength. The blond absentmindedly traced the faint bruises on his bare arms and shoulders. Draco was taller, but his height didn't compensate for Potter's more muscular frame. His expression was one of absolute defiance when he pushed Draco away and Draco wondered if kissing him had been defiance as well. _It'd be just like him. The final humiliation. But in that case, why did he run away instead of laughing? _He growled, scaring away his tumultuous thoughts. One refused to run; _What if he meant it?_ He rolled onto his stomach, burying his face in the pillows. _It doesn't matter. I have to fix the Vanishing Cabinet, or the Dark Lord will murder… _His thoughts crashed and fell apart as his eyes prickled unbearably.

"I can't _do _this!" He wailed within the safety of his charmed curtains. "I don't know how to repair a goddamn Vanishing Cabinet! My mother will be de-de-dead." He choked, angrily swiping at his eyes. _ I'll work on it tomorrow. I need some sleep. _Despondently, he resigned himself to another night of nightmares and another day of charms to cover his grey, exhausted face.

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Near four in the morning, if Draco's weak tempus charm was to be believed, he jolted awake, his breathing fast and shallow. His terror of his dream faded quickly, but snippets of the Dark Lord's face leered at him. His mother's blood on the floor, Bellatrix's hair in his ear as she laughed over his shoulder, his father standing tall and broken by the monster's side, the Vanishing Cabinet shattering as Death Eaters poured from it… the flash of green light that forced his eyes open. The nightmare fluttered through his mind like a black butterfly, delicate but ominous. He flicked his curtains aside and pulled a thick, heavy cloak around his half-naked body. With the smooth, worn stone cooling his bare feet, he slipped soundlessly out of the room. He aimlessly wandered the halls, knowing his route by heart. Seventh floor corridor, opposite the most irritating tapestry in Hogwarts. Fortunately, Barnabas was usually asleep at such an hour. Draco had spent many nights staring at the wall, willing it to open and swallow him whole. The Room of Requirement wouldn't listen to his desperate pleas, and every day he couldn't get to the cabinet he saw the Fates snip deeper into his mother's thread. He slumped against the wall, the cold stone pressing into him and shoving him away from his only hope of survival. His head dropped to his knees and his cloak pooled around him as sleep hunted him. Its fear-tipped arrow struck him and he sagged to the floor, comatose.

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The slurred stumbling of students woke Draco. Weak light filtered through the hallway and reflected off the smooth floor. He scrambled to standing, hurriedly brushing his hair back and wrapping the cloak tighter around himself. A small group of Gryffindors rounded the corner, their talking dulled by residual sleep. _Of course it's the Golden Trio, _Draco thought bitterly. _How else could my life get worse? _ They stopped when they saw him, the Mudb- _Granger, _straightening uncomfortably as though she had heard the unspoken slur.

"Malfoy?" Harry stated, his eyes widening. _Draco, you are an utter idiot. What did you expect, wandering the corridors in pajamas?_

"Potter," he smoothly replied, "Pleasure." He watched Potter's eyes narrow with suspicion.

"Why were you in the Room of Requirement?" He asked. Draco rolled his eyes dismissively to hide his panic.

"I was sleeping." He drawled. "It's far superior to the dorm." Potter didn't relinquish his wary look.

"Then why are there red marks on your face? It looks like you were leaning against the wall." _Damn, why didn't I use a glamour?_

"The pillow fell off the bed. The marks are from the decoration on the headboard." Draco replied, nonchalantly inspecting his nails. Granger grabbed his arm and pulled him around Draco in exasperation.

"Really, Harry, there's no need to interrogate Malfoy. Besides, short of using _Veritaserum, _there's no way to know if he's being truthful." Draco winced. He hated Veritaserum; the softness it lent to the world weakened him and he couldn't resist as it ripped away his mask, his carefully constructed walls. Potter glanced back at him, looking unnervingly thoughtful.


	3. Chapter 3

Hello to my readers! I am so sorry for the lack of updates. I had no idea what I wanted to write and didn't want to post some meaningless scene. I hope you enjoy this chapter and, if you have a minute, I'd really appreciate any feedback or suggestions!

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"Potter!" Snape snapped, jolting Harry out of his distracted boredom. "If you'd care to rejoin the lesson?"

"Yes, sorry, Professor." Harry replied respectfully. _Last thing I need right now is detention. _Snape blinked once at his unexpected response before turning back to his droning lecture on shield spells. Harry leaned his head on his hand as he went through the motions of listening and taking scribbled notes. Internally, he was chaos. The incident with Malfoy in the corridor, his strange excuses, his clear unease...what was he really doing in the Room of Requirement? He desperately wanted to know, but Hermione was right; short of using Veritaserum, he couldn't make Malfoy tell the truth. He had no way of obtaining the heavily regulated serum and he wasn't good enough at Potions, even with the Half-Blood Prince's book, to make it. He chided himself for the thought. Why waste his time pondering a ridiculous problem? Malfoy might have been telling the complete truth about sleeping in the Room of Requirement...but how would Harry not have run into him before, if he really slept there often?

"Potter! 30 points from Gryffindor and a detention." Snape snapped. "You'll be spending an hour with Slughorn scrubbing cauldrons at six tonight." Harry groaned internally; cauldron scrubbing was Snape's favorite (and most foul) punishment. On the other hand, it might give him a chance to ask about Veritaserum, purely for academic reasons of course. As Snape beckoned him and a stout Hufflepuff boy to duel, Harry rehearsed his questions in his mind.

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Of course, all his rehearsal would be useless if Slughorn didn't stop rambling, Harry thought in exasperation as he dipped his cloth in more soap. After a hurried dinner, a lecture from Hermione on paying attention in class, and an ambush from seven fourth-year fangirls, Harry was almost enjoying the monotonous work of scrubbing.

"Harry, did you hear me, m'boy?" Slughorn inquired. Harry startled at the direct address.

"No, I'm sorry, Professor, What did you say?" He said sheepishly. Slughorn merely chuckled.

"It's quite alright, Harry. It's all too easy to get lost in such boring work. Why, I remember being a student here and I was punished the same way. Nasty potion that day too, and I had to clean more than twenty cauldrons!" Slughorn reminisced for a few moments and then snapped back to the present. "But, I digress. I was telling you about Lily, back when she was Lily Evans." Harry looked up.

"Go on, Professor." Slughorn settled more comfortably into his chair.

"Well, she was a dear girl, very talented, very clever. If she hadn't such kindness, she would have belonged in Slytherin for her cunning. In her 6th year, she was very suspicious of James Potter and his friends, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, and Peter Pettigrew." He paused here, noting the flash of pain that twisted Harry's features.

"Oh dear. Harry, forgive me. I didn't mean to remind you…" He trailed off as Harry smiled convincingly.

"It's fine Professor, please continue."

"Of course, m'boy. Anyway, she was suspicious and she came to my office one afternoon and asked about Veritaserum. Apparently, she wanted to interrogate them!" He laughed uproariously, his eyes crinkling closed in mirth. Harry was stunned.

"She asked about Veritaserum?" He asked in shock, more to himself than Slughorn.

"Yes, dear boy. Surprising?" Harry shook his head.

"No, I just found myself wondering recently about how it worked. It's odd that you should tell this story now."

"Quite peculiar. Well, there's no harm in knowing. What you must understand, and I told Lily this as well, is that you must never attempt to make Veritaserum, nor buy it, nor steal it. One mistake, and the potion will turn to a toxin beyond comprehension. Buying Veritaserum is exorbitantly expensive and most often, it's a fake. Stealing it could send you to Azkaban. Do you understand, Harry."

"I assure you, Professor, my curiosity is purely academic." Slughorn nodded and then launched into a lecture that made Harry's head spin. He continued to scrub cauldrons, pausing for an occasional question. After nearly two hours, the cauldrons were gleaming and Slughorn glanced at the clock.

"Goodness, look at the time! I must go. If you have more questions, just ask me in my office." He said, heaving himself out of the chair. He tutted approvingly at the cauldrons and then rushed out of the room. Harry turned to leave and heard Slughorn's voice through the door.

"Ah! Draco, how are you?"

"Fine, Professor. My apologies, but I must be going." Malfoy replied curtly. Harry heard quick footsteps going past the door and receding into the distance. Harry quietly left the classroom and went after Malfoy.

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_(Thirty minutes previously, in Draco's private room just past the Slytherin Common Room)_

Draco eyed the innocuous looking envelope delivered by his father's owl. Creamy white, smooth and blank, the envelope seemed like a void ready to swallow him. Only his name marred the surface, a scratched _Draco _that twisted his stomach. It was undoubtedly bad news, more threats, possibly even pleading on behalf of his mother. It crushed him to read that, to see evidence of his failure in black and white, even though his father knew not of his struggle. Picking up the envelope with a shaking hand, he slit the top with his silver letter opener. The blade nicked his fingers, opening thin cuts across their tips. He watched blankly as drops of blood welled up and speckled the envelope. He extracted and unfolded the letter, noting the crispness of the parchment, its weight, the Malfoy crest, anything but the writing. He set the letter on his desk, letting his eyes wander across the message. It contained the standard inquiries about his health, his schoolwork, his professors. Lucius, perfectly playing his fatherly role, discussed trivial details about him and Narcissa, how much she missed him and wanted to see him. Draco ignored the fake sentiments, instead reaching for his wand. Tapping it gently on the paper, he whispered an incantation. "_Revelare verbis Lucius." _Whiteness bled from his wand, coating the paper and revealing the true letter. It was brief, but it cut to the bone.

_Draco,_

_You are far behind on your task. The Dark Lord grows restless and his anger is inflamed. The poisoned sleeping draught was only a warning; next time, Narcissa will be its recipient. The time for the attack is approaching and you must not fail. If you are unable to fix the Vanishing Cabinet, you know what will happen to both you and Narcissa. I assume you have used diagnostic spells on the Cabinet. Basic repair spells will not affect the Cabinet; you must use ones that target the magical link between the sister Cabinets._

_"Vinculum" may work. Move your wand in a counterclockwise circle followed by a sharp upward flick._

_Lucius_

Draco dropped the letter and buried his head in his hands. They had poisoned him. They were going to poison his mother unless he succeeded. They would kill him. Draco could vividly imagine his death: hexes flung at him by stone-faced Death Eaters, the Dark Lord delivering the Cruciatus curse, and finally the flash of green light to end his suffering. He jerked his head up and burned the letter, watching as the fine parchment dissolved into ashes. He rushed out of the room, heading for the seventh floor corridor that held his life in its crushing grip.


	4. Chapter 4

As always, reviews are loved, so please send one my way! Hope you enjoy Chapter 4 of Masks.

The third section contains text taken directly from _Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. _

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Draco rounded the corner and nearly collided with Slughorn. He barely stopped his lip from curling in a hateful sneer, instead forcing it into a vaguely pleasant expression.

"Ah! Draco, how are you?" Slughorn asked, clearly flustered. Draco forced a smile.

"Fine, Professor. My apologies, but I must be going." He rushed past the bewildered professor and continued down the hall, his shoes clicking against the floor. He heard a door open behind him, but didn't look back. His mind was blank; his legs followed the path he had taken countless times. The seventh floor corridor loomed in front of him, the grin of the tapestry mocking him. Not caring that it was broad daylight and anyone could walk by, Draco desperately paced in front of the wall. _I need to fix the Vanishing Cabinet. I need to fix the Vanishing Cabinet. I need to complete my task. I need to open the Room of Hidden Things. I need to save my family. Goddamn it, nothing's working! _The stone wall remained indifferent to his pleas, leering back at him.

And Draco shattered.

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Harry watched Draco, tucked into a small alcove in the corridor. The tall boy was frantically pacing, fisting his hands in robes, his hair. His face was deathly pale, but his cheeks were stained a bright, furious red. Suddenly, he whipped his wand out of his robe pocket, cast a spell that Harry couldn't hear, and opened his mouth in a scream. Ripples of sound reached Harry through the Muffliato charm. Draco raised his wand and shot a spell at the wall. It exploded silently, sending pieces of stone shrapnel throughout the corridor. They shattered against Draco's shield spell, but hit Harry, slicing scratches across his hands. He stepped out of the alcove, raising his wand.

"_Reparo!" _The wall flew back together, the stone splinters lodging themselves in their places. Draco whirled around in fury, stalking towards Harry threateningly. He shouted at him, but the Muffliato blocked the sound. Harry slowly backed away, wand in hand, expecting Draco to hit him with a jinx. Instead, he turned and ran, leaving a pocket of silence and a cracked-glass wall in his wake.

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Harry stood in the hallway, stunned. Raising his wand, he summoned the Marauders' Map from his room and brusquely unfolded it. His wide eyes flitted across the surface until he found Draco, standing motionless in the Sixth-floor bathroom. With the map clutched loosely in his hand, he sprinted out of the corridor. The few students he passed eyed him quizzically, but made no move to stop him. As he neared the bathroom, he slowed to a steady pace and drew his wand. Pushing the door open quietly, Harry was confronted by the sight of Draco bent over a sink in despair.

"Don't," crooned Moaning Myrtle's voice from one of the cubicles. "Don't … tell me what's wrong … I can help you …" Harry crept closer, listening for Draco's response.

"No one can help me," said Draco. His whole body was shaking. "I can't do it … I can't … it won't work … and unless I do it soon … he says he'll kill me …" Tears rolled down his face, catching the light and falling into the grimy basin. As Harry watched, Draco straightened up to look in the mirror and his reflected silver eyes locked with Harry's. He whirled around and wildly shot a hex at Harry. It missed him by only inches.

_Levicorpus! _Harry thought desperately, flicking his wand. Draco blocked it and raised his wand.

"Reduc-," he began before Moaning Myrtle's piercing scream ricocheted through the room.

"No! No! Stop it!" She wailed. "Stop! STOP!" As a bin behind Harry exploded into shards, he attempted a Leg-Locker Curse that missed Draco and shattered a cistern near Moaning Myrtle, send water flooding across the floor. Harry slid towards his opponent as Draco, his face twisted in a pained fury, opened his mouth to scream.

"Cruci-"

"SECTUMSEMPRA!" Harry yelled, waving his wand wildly. Draco fell backwards, blood gushing from long, deep wounds that opened across his face and chest. He landed in the water with a splash, his wand rolling from his hand.

"No." Harry choked out, staggering over to the bleeding boy. Draco's face was shining scarlet, his hands pressing against his blood-soaked chest.

"Oh god, no. Draco!" Harry fell to his knees beside him, helplessly watching him shake uncontrollably on the floor. Moaning Myrtle let out a deafening scream.

"MURDER! MURDER IN THE BATHROOM! MURDER!"

Snape burst into the bathroom, roughly shoving Harry away from Draco and kneeling down. Wearing a mask of fury that contorted his face, he gently traced the deep wounds with his wand, murmuring a mellifluous incantation that stopped the flow of blood. Wiping Draco's face, Snape repeated the spell and the wounds stitched themselves back together. Harry watched, confined in his shame and horror, and nearly oblivious to his blood-soaked clothes and the distraught ghost's wailing. Snape repeated the incantation a final time and slowly lifted Draco to a standing position.

"You need the hospital wing. There may be a certain amount of scarring, but if you take dittany immediately we might avoid even that … come …" He supported the stumbling boy across the room, turning at the door to pierce Harry with a cold stare.

"And you, Potter...you wait here for me."

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Draco was in agony. Every halting step pounded daggers deeper into his chest, piercing through his lungs and turning his breathing to rasps. The black-cloaked figure of Severus Snape hovered next to him, holding him up. After he was hit with Sectumsempra, his memories were hazy: Harry and then Snape kneeling over him, a muttered spell, a slow return to consciousness and the stabbing pain that awaited him. The hospital wing came into view, the bright light cutting his eyes and exposing his figure. Madam Pomfrey gasped in horror as she approached.

"Oh, Severus, what's happened?" She gently laid Draco on a cot, pushing his hair out of his face and unbuttoning his shirt to inspect his injuries. Snape sighed.

"He got into a duel with Potter and was hit directly with a Sectumsempra Curse. The fool hadn't the faintest idea what the spell did. I healed the worst of it, but he needs dittany and something for the pain." Madam Pomfrey nodded, striding over to one of the large medicine cabinets.

"I trust you can heal him? I must leave to speak with Potter." Snape asked, glancing at the barely conscious Slytherin.

"Of course, Severus, I wouldn't be at Hogwarts if I couldn't heal wounds like these. Go see to Potter."

Snape nodded curtly and strode out of the room.

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As soon as he left the room, the healer waved her wand smoothly over Draco's bare chest. The blood vanished, revealing the inflamed red lines etched across his ashen skin. She carefully poured a few drops of Essence of Dittany onto a soft cloth and smoothed it across the wounds. Draco shuddered at the cold liquid, breathing a soft sigh when the pain eased. Madam Pomfrey smiled faintly as his breathing deepened and the angry lines faded to pale silver scars. Another flick of her wand cleared the blood from his face. The cuts were shallower and the dittany healed them to unmarred skin. She took a small vial of clear liquid from her pocket and uncorked it, the faint scent of peaches wafting upwards as she did so.

"Draco." She said gently. "Wake up. You need to drink this." He groaned faintly, lifting his head to let the potion trickle into his mouth. The pain, and his mind, cleared. He coughed, feeling the lingering dull ache in his chest.

"I need water," he croaked. Almost immediately, cold water lapped against his lips and he gulped it down eagerly.

"Poor dear." Madam Pomfrey murmured. "Whatever happened?"

Draco tilted his head to look at her.

"Potter followed me into the bathroom and startled me. I shot a hex at him in surprise and then it escalated. He hit me with Sectumsempra to stop me from attacking him with a powerful Stinging Jinx. It was only in self-defense. He didn't know." The healer nodded in understanding.

"Severus told me the same. He likely won't be expelled then, but detention is certain." She stated.

"I need to talk to him." Draco whispered. "It was my fault." Madam Pomfrey looked at him strangely.

"Draco, you're barely conscious. I'll fetch him after you sleep."

The boy tried to protest, but she gently pushed him back to the bed.

"Rest, Draco. He'll be here when you wake up."

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	5. Chapter 5

Hello to all of my readers! Thanks for sticking around through my crippling writers' block. In honor of Harry Potter's birthday, here is chapter 5 of Masks! I'm really excited about where this story is going, so please let me know what you think! I'm a bit disappointed by the lack of reviews; I'd love some feedback from my awesome readers.

Also, if anyone feels like my story is a rip-off of another HPFF, please PM me or write a review and tell me the story and author so I can determine if I've accidentally copied its content. No plagiarism is intended and I wouldn't want to offend any authors by replicating their work. Thanks!

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Draco came to to an extraordinarily unwelcome sight. Pansy Parkinson's face loomed over his, watching him with hawk-like intensity. Draco quickly shut his eyes again, hoping she hadn't seen them flutter. He wasn't nearly lucky enough.

"Madam Pomfrey!" She squealed. "Draco's awake!" Draco heard the hem of her dress swishing against the floor as she approached.

"Good heavens, Parkinson. The boy is _recovering. _Lower your voice." She snapped disapprovingly. Pansy shrank back slightly, crossing her arms and sitting in pouty silence.

"Draco?" The healer said softly. "Are you awake?" Draco nodded slightly, the sleeping draught lingering in his blood and making the world so much softer. He didn't resist when she lifted his head and slipped a tablet between his lips. It tasted sweet and chemical-tainted and he prodded it with his tongue uncertainly. It broke in half, sending what felt like volts of electricity coursing though his body. He shot awake, gasping, as the last traces of softness were purged from his mind. It _hurt, _being forced back to reality. Pansy had grabbed his hand, holding it tightly while trying to soothe him in her simpering voice. He yanked his hand away, pressing it to his eyes to erase the headache that had built up behind them.

"Leave. Please." He told Pansy, not looking at her crestfallen face. As Madam Pomfrey escorted her out, he mulled over his meager plan. He flipped back the sheets and swung his legs over the edge of the cot. Immediately, he felt a wave of magic push him back onto the bed.

"Absolutely not, Mr. Malfoy!" The healer reprimanded, her wand still raised. "You lost a non-trivial amount of blood and the sleeping draught is still affecting your mind. You need to rest."

Draco looked up at her, his eyes pleading.

"I need to speak with Potter. Urgently."

"Then I'll call him in. You can speak in here." She responded promptly. Draco groaned.

"I need to speak with him _privately._" He stressed. The healer didn't hesitate.

"Are you two not wizards? Surely a privacy charm and the bed curtains would suffice." Draco sighed in exasperation at the quick-witted witch.

"I suppose that would be acceptable." He wearily replied. The witch smirked slightly, summoning a slip of parchment and a quill, scribbling out a message, and then flicking it out of sight.

"Potter will arrive soon."

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Harry jumped as something brushed his hand where it rested on his desk. He looked down to see a fluttering piece of parchment. He flipped it over to reveal a brief message.

_Mr. Potter,_

_Draco has requested that you come to the hospital wing. He says that he urgently needs to speak with you. You are excused from you classes for the remainder of the day._

Harry hesitantly raised his hand, interrupting Professor Sprout's lecture on the healing properties of some venomous plant that had a nasty habit of sneaking up on students.

"Yes, Mr. Potter?" The woman sighed as she wrestled a slithery tentacle back into its cage.

"I have to go to the hospital wing, Professor." Harry said uncertainly, glancing down at the note.

"Oh dear, are you sick?"

"Er, no. Madam Pomfrey sent me a note telling me to go." The Herbology professor nodded.

"Alright, be on your way. I assume she excused you from classes?" She asked, amid chuckles as the tentacle stole her earmuffs.

"Yes, Professor. 'Bye Ron. I'll tell you later." He hurried away, burning with curiosity as to what Malfoy would need to tell him so urgently.

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Draco hardly noticed Harry's hurried slip into the hospital wing. He was far too distracted and, honestly, terrified by the act of betrayal he was about to commit. If a whisper of his treachery wormed its way back to The Dark Lord, his family would cease to exist. He looked up to see Harry standing a few feet away, looking at him with thinly veiled curiosity, but also obvious remorse as his eyes flicked over Draco's chest. He startled when Draco made direct eye contact and waved him over silently. Harry sat stiffly in the chair by the bed, watching the other boy carefully as he flicked his wand twice, cloaking them in a silencing charm and bright white curtains. Satisfied, Draco leaned back against the pillow and turned to Harry, his face instantly morphing into an unreadable mask.

"How are you?" Harry asked cautiously. Draco sighed heavily.

"Could be better. You?"

"Er, I'm fine." Harry leaned towards him suddenly. "Listen, Draco. I'm so sorry. I know that probably doesn't mean anything, but I really am. I had no clue what the spell did and I wish I could undo what happened."

"I don't," came the reply. "I deserved it. I was going to Crucio you."

"Crucio isn't fatal. I almost killed you Draco! You don't deserve that." Harry said indignantly.

"You don't know that." Draco said cooly, staring blankly into space. Harry nearly growled in frustration.

"Yes I do, no one-" Draco interrupted him.

"I'm a Death Eater. I bear the Dark Mark. Not by choice, but I bear it." He said brokenly. The Gryffindor sat back in shock. Draco turned towards him and pulled up his left sleeve, revealing the black symbol marring his pale skin.

"Draco… Merlin. I knew it! Ron and Hermione told me I was crazy for suspecting it, but I _knew!" _Harry nearly shouted. Draco's face paled beyond what Harry thought possible.

"I need help, Harry. I'm going to die."

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Harry reeled at Draco's plea. The boy looked exhausted, his eyes dull and sunken into bruised shadows. His normal haughty posture was defeated and he curled into himself protectively. Everything about him begged Harry to reach out to him, but he stopped himself from comforting the boy who had sworn to be his enemy.

"What do you mean?" He asked in shock. Draco glanced at him.

"Are you thick?" He said without any bite behind the insult. Harry ignored him.

"Why are you going to die? Why do you think I can help?" Draco turned fully towards him. His mouth seemed permanently pulled down and his normally perfect hair was mussed and dirty.

"I suppose I should start from the beginning." He said quietly. Harry just nodded, struck silent by the despair in his voice.

"Before school started, The Dark Lord gave me a special task. I was to find a way to get Death Eaters into Hogwarts. If I failed, my family and I would be killed. I knew of a Vanishing Cabinet in the Room of Requirement. There's a sister cabinet in Borgin and Burkes-"

"So that's what you were doing there." Harry interrupted. Draco continued without asking how Harry knew.

"And I forced the owner to help me fix the cabinets. But when..." Draco trailed off, closing his eyes briefly.

"But when I got here, the Room of Requirement wouldn't let me in. I've been trying and trying, but I can't get in."

"That morning, when we found you in the corridor, were you trying to get in?" Harry asked gently.

"Yes," Draco choked. "I had a nightmare and tried to get in, but I couldn't and then I fell asleep against the wall. I think the Room senses that I'm trying to hurt the castle and it won't let me. I haven't been able to fix the cabinets and now his plan will fail." He swallowed hard.

"My mother will die first. Then he'll get to me. And if he doesn't, someone else will." He blinked quickly, his breath catching in his chest. Harry sat in silence as Draco fought back tears.

"That's not all, is it?" The dark-haired boy asked. "I know there's something more." Draco nodded slowly, unable to speak around the lump in his throat. Horrified understanding dawned on Harry's face.

"You have to kill Dumbledore."

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Draco drew his knees up to his chest to hide his face, numb to the stinging of his newly-healed wounds.

"Yes." He sobbed, even though Harry knew. "I can't. I don't know what to do." The back of his mind screamed at him to stop acting so weak, but he was so tired. He just wanted to sleep and not wake up until everything was over. He thought he heard the curtains rustle over his own breathing and assumed Harry had left. Then, a warm arm gently brushed his own where it was wrapped around his legs. He felt a weight depress the mattress and then an arm was carefully settled around his hunched shoulders. His head shot up in surprise and Harry quickly drew his arm back. Draco immediately missed the comforting touch.

"I'm sorry." Harry said awkwardly. They sat next to each other for several tense moments, broken only by Draco's hiccuping breaths.

"I'll help you, you know." He mumbled. "I know what its like, not having a choice." Draco looked up at him, his eyes tinted red.

"Th-thank you." He gasped, disbelieving. Harry smiled softly, shifting closer so that their shoulders were barely touching.

"But you need to rest first. The sleeping potion that Madam Pomfrey gave you is probably still in your system. You should eat. I can get you something." Draco shook his head.

"I couldn't eat, but thank you." He said. Now that Harry mentioned it, he could distinctly feel the tingly, soft sensation caused by the potion. He swayed gently on the bed, leaning into Harry slightly. The other boy looked at him, taking in his exhausted face.

"I should go, let you sleep." He murmured.

"No...don't go." Draco sighed sleepily. "I'm cold."

"Then get under the blankets. I'll help you." Harry replied. Draco yawned, his sleep-addled mind trying to decide whether the tempting blankets were worth having to move. Harry stood up and he flopped over, the lingering sleeping draught warm in his blood. Then blankets were being pulled out from under him and over his curled form. Harry started to move away, but Draco caught his hand.

"Don't leave." He muttered quietly, a faint blush on his cheekbones. Harry sat down in the chair, softly caressing the back of Draco's hand.

"Ok. I won't." He whispered to the sleeping boy.

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AAAAAAA! The fluff has started! Let me know what you think. Is it too weird, or do you like it?


	6. Chapter 6

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I am so, so, so sorry for the incredibly long (school-related) abandonment of my readers! I'm back and I hope to get at least 3 chapters posted before the next semester starts. Thank you for the reviews! They are always appreciated.

Also, Harry gets to act as the master strategist in this chapter. In the books, he definitely doesn't have this kind of planning ability, but it's for the sake of plot (and fluff!) so forgive me.

Harry watched him sleep briefly, his lips drawn down as he studied his...what? He wasn't a rival anymore. He'd risked everything to ask Harry for help. Merlin, Harry thought, he was so pale, so thin, his lips nearly white, the shadows under his eyes bruised and dark, and his cheekbones starkly prominent. And he was cold, icy cold, where his hand still touched Harry's. He felt a flare of anger at Voldemort. Malfoy could be bloody awful, but he didn't deserve this, didn't deserve to wither away from fear into the boy who laid curled under the blankets. Sighing, he stood and stretched, Draco's hand dropping limply when he let it go. If he was going to help Draco, he needed to think and he couldn't with his mind clouded by frustration. He tucked the blankets further over the sleeping boy and canceled the privacy charm, slipping through the curtains silently. Madam Pomfrey glanced over at him as he walked away.

"Is everything alright, Harry?" She called quietly. He startled slightly and walked towards her.

"Yes, everything's fine. He's asleep again." He replied. The healer lowered her voice even further.

"Harry, what did he tell you? You look upset. Did he threaten you?" Harry's eyes widened.

"No! No, he didn't." He said quickly. The woman stared at him intently for several seconds.

"I believe you. I'm puzzled as to why he wanted to talk to _you _of all people, but I suppose it's really none of my business." Harry shrugged and smiled faintly, turning to walk away. Once he was out of the hospital wing, he exhaled long and hard in frustration.

_How the hell can I solve this? He can't die. _

"Arrgh!" He groaned, combing his hand viciously through his hair.

_If only I could talk to Hermione…_

He ran back to his dormitory, diving into the privacy of his bed and drumming his fingers on his legs.

_The Vanishing Cabinet is still broken. Death Eaters can't get in then, so Draco should be safe. But Voldemort still has his parents, so he can still be forced to kill Dumbledore. There's probably no way to get a message to them without Voldemort seeing it. If Draco completes his task, he and his parents will live, but Dumbledore will die. _Harry's forehead creased into a frown. _I could warn Dumbledore, but there's no way for it to _seem _like the task was completed because Dumbledore wouldn't die. _

Harry's eyes darkened as he mused.

_If I could somehow distract Voldemort long enough that Aurors could surround him… That's a stupid plan. He might just send a Death Eater and if he is there, he'll have powerful wards. But, I could distract whoever he sends long enough for Dumbledore to cast an _Incarcerous_._

He had a plan, a dangerous one, but still a plan.

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Draco shuddered on the bed, convulsing as a nightmare grabbed and shook him. A thin sheen of sweat covered his shivering body and his heart pounded as he gasped. There was something grabbing his shoulder and he was tangled in something and he couldn't _breathe_ or _see_ and he was _terrified _and...

"Draco!" A woman's voice shook him almost awake and it faintly registered that he could actually breathe, even though his body was being compressed by his heartbeat.

"Are you alright?" Madam Pomfrey asked, pressing him down into the bed so he couldn't thrash as he woke up. His eyes snapped open, wide and frightened, but he lay still as she vanished the blankets from their vice grip on his legs. His breathing slowed as he curled on the bed and lay there quietly.

"Are you alright, Draco?" She repeated, already uncorking a small vial of dilute calming draught.

"Yes." He said, his voice torn at the edges.

"I'll leave this here. It's just a calming draught. It won't put you to sleep. Hello, Harry."

He nodded almost imperceptibly, still tightly curled on the bed. Something she had said seemed like it should be important, but he couldn't quite grasp why…

"Draco?" A wisp of soft voice reached his ears. "Are you alright?" Draco's lips automatically curled into a sneer.

"Does it bloody look like it, Potter?" He hissed, his face burning as he realized what a pathetic picture he was making. He'd _held Harry's hand _and asked him to stay! And he still left, Draco thought, feeling unreasonably hurt. He heard an amused huff from the chair and opened his eyes to see Harry smirking.

"Guess the sleeping draught is gone? It was nice to not be at each other's throats." He quipped. Draco sighed deeply, rolling on to his back and draping his arm over his face.

"Sorry." He mumbled. "S'pose I should be less of an arse if I'm you're actually going to help me."

"That's why I left. I needed to think. I might have a decent plan. If I can somehow cause a distraction..." came the musing reply from the chair. Draco's stomach dropped.

"Did you put up a privacy charm?" He asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

"Of course, I'm not thick! The curtains are closed too." Harry retorted. "Now can you _please _shut your mouth and let me talk?" Draco shot him a fierce glare, but gestured for him to continue.

"You have to tell Voldemort you've failed." Harry said calmly.

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Draco gaped at him wordlessly, shocked to his core.

"_What?!" _He gasped. Harry stared solemnly at him.

"Think about it. The Cabinets are broken, so if Death Eaters try to use them, they'll be trapped. This would be good, if not for the fact that Voldemort will probably expect a Patronus or the Dark Mark or something like that."

"He will." Draco said when Harry paused. "He wants the Dark Mark displayed above Hogwarts and a message from Bellatrix when the task is completed." Harry nodded thoughtfully.

"Send a message saying that the Room of Requirement won't let you in. It's broken and the students and teachers can't get in either. Warn him not to send people through the Cabinet because they'll be trapped. Tell him that you'll gladly complete your task. He can send Bellatrix to ensure that it is done." Harry finished and looked expectantly at Draco. Grey eyes met his and swam with despair.

"What?" Harry asked, surprised at Draco's response.

"That's your grand plan? If I tell You Know Who that I've _failed, _my mother will be dead before he finishes reading the message. Bellatrix will _never _come here if she isn't inside the wards. If she gets to me, she'll probably slit my throat rather than send the message." He said dully, running his fingers through his hair harshly, wincing when they snagged in tangles. Harry snatched his hands out of his hair and held them.

"Stop hurting yourself. It sounds like everyone else is doing a fine job of that." He snapped, his tone belied by the warm thumbs he ran over Draco's knuckles. He continued as if nothing had happened.

"Would Voldemort trust you enough to let you send the message?" Harry asked.

"No. This is how I was supposed to prove my loyalty. He's already suspicious because it's taking me so long to fix the Cabinets."

"Merlin, are you going to say anything helpful?" Harry groaned. "You're supposed to be the cunning one."

"I'm sorry. This is just… If I had any idea what to do…" Draco half-sobbed, drawing his hands back to cover his face. They were immediately snatched back.

"Draco, I'm so sorry that this is happening to you and I can't even imagine what it's like, but you have to help me with this. You know much more than I do and crying isn't going to save your mother." Harry said firmly, staring fiercely into his eyes.

"Right. Right. Sorry. Er, what if…" he choked out, looking away.

"Calm down." Harry commanded, squeezing Draco's cold hands. "Panicking isn't helpful."

They sat quietly for a few minutes, Harry silently musing as Draco brought his mind back to the present. He broke the silence suddenly, causing Harry to startle in his chair.

"I can go back to the manor. Maybe I can convince him that you and Dumbledore are both outside the school and lead Bellatrix to the Aurors." Harry shook his head.

"Too risky. What if he just kills you and sends Bellatrix?" He answered reasonably. "There's no point in you leaving. At least you're safe here." Draco frowned.

"I suppose…" He said, trailing off. "There might be another way to prove I've completed my task."

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"There's an old method of magical communication that You Know Who forced all his followers to learn. It allows us to send smoke acts like a series of moving pictures. It shows the receiver what's happening in real-time. It's difficult, but I'm sure I could do it." He said thoughtfully.

"So it's like a movie?" Harry asked. "Never mind. It's a Muggle thing," he said hastily when Draco cocked his head in confusion.

"But how would that help?" Harry asked. "You would have to do everything you've been asked to do."

"I figured out a way to send memories. And those can show whatever I want." Draco said with a ghost of a smirk on his drawn face.

"I can create a false memory of me killing Dumbledore and extract it. It will come from my mind and carry my magical signature. When I send the smoke message, it will seem like everything is actually happening. I just have to ensure that no other magical signatures appear in the message." He explained.

"What happens if there are other magical signatures in the message?" Harry asked, concern staining his tone.

"If it's your signature, it means that you've helped with the message and I'm a traitor. He won't hesitate to kill both my parents for my betrayal." Draco replied. "Clearly, that can't happen."

"I won't touch the message." Harry reassured him. "What can I do to help you?"

"If I had a Pensieve, I could refine the memory further to ensure it seems as real as possible. Can you access the Headmaster's office?"

"Possibly." Harry frowned. "I'd need a reason to visit the office, but I think I could get you in."

Draco looked at him gratefully.

"I might also need a private place to create the memory. I don't trust any of the dorms and I can't do it here."

"What about the Room of Requirement? I'm sure I could open it." Harry said hesitantly, unsure of Draco's response.

"That's fine. Just please...make sure it's an empty room." He said quietly, his hands starting to tremble in Harry's.

"I will." Harry promised, releasing Draco's hands and standing up. "I'm going to get some food from the kitchens. I'll bring you back something. You must be hungry after sleeping for so long." He canceled the charms and pulled open the curtains.

"Thank you." Draco called after him, choosing to thank him for the food instead of the million other things he was grateful for but couldn't say out loud. Harry glanced over his shoulder and grinned before striding purposefully out of the hospital wing.

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Happy New Year and thanks for reading! I will try to get another chapter out soon. Reviews are always appreciated and if there's something you'd like to see in Masks, feel free to leave a short prompt! :D


	7. Chapter 7

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It has been far too long since I've updated. I hope you enjoy this next chapter of Masks!

"Will this work?" Harry asked anxiously as Draco surveyed the large room before him. It was quiet and completely covered with silky grey fabric. A circle of shimmering, white stone rose slightly above the floor in the center of the room and a soft, worn armchair sat complacently in a corner.

"Yes," Draco replied. "How did you know to ask for the stone? It helps absorb and concentrate magical energy."

"Er, the room just supplied it. I was thinking about casting spells," Harry said, looking on curiously as Draco bent down and traced the shallow designs carved into the stone. He drew his hand away quickly and swayed where he stood. Harry moved closer, ready to catch the still-recovering boy.

"This is quite powerful," Draco murmured in surprise. "I barely touched it and it stripped the outside of my magic away. It should vanish any remnants of your magical signature in the room."

"Good!" Harry grinned. "I'll just leave you to it. Call me if you need anything."

"Can you move the chair next to the stone before you leave? I need to conserve as much magic as possible."

"Do you want to rest before doing this?" Harry asked as he levitated the chair closer. "You're not fully recovered."

Draco shook his head, primly brushing dust off the seat of the armchair before sitting down.

"I'll be fine. I need to do this as quickly as I can so that I have more time for the refinement process."

Harry nodded but stood still as he looked Draco over. He had disappeared into his room after leaving the hospital wing to shower and get clean clothes, but he still looked tired and translucent. Blue veins stood out against the pallor of his neck and hands, and he shivered slightly in the chair despite the warmth of the room.

"Harry?" Draco asked quietly, unnerved by the scrutiny. Harry turned to leave.

"Sorry. I'll come back in an hour with some food. You've barely eaten for days," he said as he slipped through the door. It closed behind him, leaving Draco in a room full of silence interrupted only by the faint sparking sound of the stone.

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Draco slumped in the chair and yawned, rubbing his hand across his face. The stone continued to tug on his magic, draining wisps of it away.

"Wonderful," he muttered, "I'll probably fall asleep in the middle of the memory."

He closed his eyes and began to hum. The noise resonated within the stone and filled the room with a deep, clear ringing. His mind emptied as he focused on the vibrating sound.

_He was standing in the Astronomy tower outside. It was pitch black except for the moonlight and the faint glow of the Hogwarts windows behind him. Dumbledore stood facing him, his hands raised in supplication. _

"_Draco," he said calmly, "You don't have to do this." Draco stood taller, sneering down at him._

"_My loyalty lies with the Dark Lord. This is my choice, old man," he said derisively, raising his wand. Dumbledore drew his own, pointing it at Draco with a look of regret as he began to speak._

"_Expelliarmus!" Draco shouted before the incantation could leave the older man's lips. The wand rolled to the edge of the Astronomy tower, click-clacking against the wood railing. It immediately returned to Dumbledore's hand._

"_Petrificus totalus," Draco said easily, knocking Dumbledore to the floor. The old professor gazed up at him, unable to break the invisible bonds holding him against the rough wood. His cloudy eyes flitted from the sharp wand in his face to the young man standing over him._

"_Expelliarmus," Draco whispered. He knelt and grabbed the wand clasped in Dumbledore's paralyzed hand._

"_This belongs to the Dark Lord now." Draco traced the curves in the oiled, dark wood with his pale fingers._

"_But where's the harm in me having a bit of fun first?" he murmured. "Crucio!" _

_The body-bind curse held. Tears ran from the professor's eyes into his silver hair, leaving pearly streaks across his temples. Draco ended the curse. _

"_Avada kedavra." Green light slammed into Dumbledore's chest and crawled upward around his throat in snaking tendrils. Draco stepped back, releasing the body-bind spell with a quick twirl of his wand. Dumbledore sagged against the edge of the Astronomy tower. His eyes gazed blankly at the sky, bits of starlight reflecting in the tears still spread across them. Draco walked away._

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The walls echoed the last remnants of the deep ringing emanating from the stone. A swirl of white smoke hovered in the center of the room, glinting with flashes of green. Draco's hands clenched around the armrests of the chair. His fingernails tore the smooth upholstery. The resonating noise stopped, leaving a muffled whine in Draco's ears that scratched against his skull. His fingers loosened and he fell backward into the chair, his shoulders twitching as they relaxed.

"Finite." The white smoke pooled on the stone in steamy ripples. A dome of sparking blue magic twined around the fake memory, condensing it into silver droplets. Draco drew a glass vial from his pocket and uncapped it, the rough, porous cork falling into his palm with a quiet pop. He pierced the dome with his wand, drawing the silver memory to the wooden tip in a flowing, spiky ball. The memory slipped through the protective magic and dripped into the glass vial, turning back into smoke. He quickly replaced the cork, trapping the opalescent vapor. The dome of magic vanished just as the door creaked open.

"Draco?" Harry called softly. "Is it safe to come in?"

Draco started, clutching the slippery vial tightly in his fist. He stood up, sliding the memory into his pocket.

"It's fine." He watched Harry walk across the small room and lean against the armchair.

"Apple?" Harry asked, pulling one from his robe pocket and holding it out to Draco. Draco took a bite, the tight green skin snapping as with a sharp crunch. The tart juice stung the inside of his lips where his teeth had gnawed at the skin.

"You should sit down. You're pale." Harry pushed his shoulder gently and Draco dropped into the chair, swinging his legs over one armrest and lying draped across the soft cushions. He took another bite of the apple and chewed slowly, closing his eyes.

"No sleeping. Have some tea."

A warm thermos slid into Draco's empty hand, whispers of the heavy black tea steam spilling over his face. The armrest dipped as Harry sat on it. His leg brushed Draco's messy hair.

"I'm tired. The memory drained my magic," Draco replied, sipping at the hot tea.

"You're not too tired to eat a sandwich." Harry dropped a crinkly package on Draco's chest. Draco turned his head to glare up at Harry.

"Touch the stone and tell me you're not tired," he snapped, unwrapping the brown wax paper.

"I touched it before I let you in the room. I had to be sure it wouldn't hurt you. It didn't do anything to me." Harry grinned, bumping Draco's head with his knee. Draco froze briefly and then shoved the food and drinks back at Harry.

"You touched it before I made the memory? Damn it, Potter, it might be contaminated with your magical signature!" Draco jumped out of the chair, groaning as a throbbing headache started behind his eyes.

"I thought you said the stone vanished any magical signatures in the room," Harry said, standing up quickly.

"It might not have if you touched the stone itself. Get out! I have to check it." Draco pulled the memory vial out of his pocket. As soon as he was alone, he uncorked it and dipped his wand into the white smoke.

"_Residuum," _he uttered. Pieces of the smoke turned black and fell to the bottom of the vial. Draco stared at the tainted memory and then swirled the vial to mix the fragments. His fingers trembled as he poured the dark grey vapor onto the stone.

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_He was standing in the Astronomy tower outside. It was nearly pitch black except for the moonlight and the faint glow of the Hogwarts windows. Dumbledore stood facing him, his hands raised in supplication. Draco could sense another person standing below them, out of sight. A foreign magical signature pulsed at the edge of his vision...no no no NO_

"NO!" he cried, slamming his hand against the stone. The grey memory rippled in the center, wisps of turbulent vapor rising like steam over the surface. Draco cast a purification charm on the stone, stripping it of Harry's magic. The memory slowly whitened as the charm took hold, the black smoke falling out in shards. The clean smoke gaped with a matrix of holes like the inside of a bone. Draco watched the memory again.

_He was standing in the Astronomy tower... Dumbledore stood..."You don't have to do this."..."loyalty"... "Crucio!"...tendrils of green light...starlight...walked away. _

It was ruined. Draco dragged his wand through the broken memory, pieces of smoke clinging to the wood like spiderwebs. He vanished it and wiped the stone clean with a strong Scourgify. He trailed his fingers over the smooth white surface, ignoring the sandpaper scraping sensation as his magic was drained. The smooth ringing started again as the stone fed on his energy.

"Draco, stop!" Harry pushed him away from the stone, knocking him over. He lay curled on the floor, running his hand over the grey fabric in smooth arcs of his wrist.

"What are you doing?" Harry yelled, towering over him. "You said your magic was already depleted!"

"The memory is ruined," Draco spat at him from the floor. "Your bloody magical signature was all over it."

Harry crouched next to him and brushed Draco's hair out of his eyes, gently tucking it behind his ear.

"I'm sorry. I was just trying to-"

"I know what you were trying to do. You should have stayed out of the way and not touched things you didn't understand." Draco sat up and reached towards the stone. "Now I have to create the memory again."

"No!" Harry grabbed his hand. "You need to rest. You can't do that again, especially not after touching the stone like that."

Draco slapped him across the face, a resounding cracking sound joining the faint ringing in the room.

"I wouldn't have to do anything if you had just left the stone alone!" he screamed. Harry hissed a garbled string of Parseltongue through his teeth.

"Do you honestly think you can just create another memory right now? You can't even stand."

Draco swore at him and tried to cast a Stinging Jinx. The spell hit Harry in the stomach and scraped lightly over his skin. He didn't flinch and Draco fell back to the floor, hands rising to cover his face.

"You have no magic left," Harry said softly.

"Thanks, Potter, I had no idea," Draco spoke through his shaky hands. Harry moved to stand near the prone boy's shoulders and bent down to pick him up. He felt Draco's heartbeat spike under his left palm as he hauled him to a standing position.

"What do you think you're doing?" Draco didn't struggle as Harry pulled him towards the door.

"I'm changing the room into something more comfortable. You can rest here and be safe and then recreate the memory when enough of your magic is back." Harry grunted as Draco slumped fully against him. They stepped out into the empty, dark hall.

_I need a place for Draco to rest. _Harry felt a faint tug in his chest as the room responded.

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Harry adjusted the warmth of the fireplace in the new room. The dim orange glow spilled over the hearth and pooled in the pockets of the couch cushions and the folds of the curtains around Draco's bed. Draco watched him propped on one elbow, his bare shoulders poking out from under a thick red blanket. His school clothes lay neatly folded on the bedside table next to his wand.

"Is this better?" Harry asked him.

"Yes." Draco yawned as the heat from the fire washed over him. Harry started to walk out of the room.

"Goodnight then."

"Wait!" Draco's stomach dropped. "You're leaving?" Harry eyed him curiously.

"I thought you wanted me to." Harry drummed his fingers against the doorframe and adjusted the sleeve of his robe.

"What if the room traps me and you can't reopen it?" Draco asked, twisting the blanket between his fingers.

"It didn't earlier," Harry mumbled. "You should be fine." Draco's eyes glinted in the firelight.

"Please," he said quietly. Harry walked over to the bed.

"Okay. I'll stay."

"On the couch, Potter. I'm not sharing." Draco pulled the blankets securely around himself.

Harry blushed slightly and tugged at the curtains.

"Of course. I just need these for blankets." Harry transfigured the curtains into a heap of fluffy maroon covers and threw them onto the couch cushions. He took off his glasses, placing them carefully on the bedside table beside Draco's wand. Draco rolled over as Harry slipped out of his school clothes, leaving them in a rumpled pile on the floor.

"Goodnight." Harry yawned from the couch. "Sleep well." Draco sighed heavily, curling up under the blankets tucked around his shoulders.

"Believe me, I will," he muttered. Harry chuckled behind him.

"You too," Draco added. "Goodnight." The room was quiet except for the faint papery crackling of the fireplace.

"And I'm sorry about the memory."

"It's fine. You were trying to protect me. I can fix it as soon as my magic returns."

Harry dimmed the fireplace with a flick of his wand. Comfortable shadows draped over the furniture. He could see the blankets over Draco moving slightly with his slow breathing. The steady popping of the fireplace sunk into his ears and pulled his eyelids down in one smooth motion.

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That's it for this chapter! As always, reviews are greatly appreciated. :)


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